A Drow Child's Book of Fairy Stories
by Rilwen-Shadowflame
Summary: Witness classic fairy tales converted into counterparts one might possibly encounter in Menzoberranzan. Marvel at the drow idea of a 'happy ending.' Mind the jade spiders if you pinched this off a drow kiddie to read!
1. BoneWhite and the Seven Kobolds

**Disclaimer:** The Forgotten Realms setting, Drow and other mentioned races, species, spells and objects originated with TSR, Inc. and Wizards of the Coast. The fairy stories used, on the other hand, are public domain.  
**A/N:** This is a collection of fairy-tales reimagined as though told by the drow. It should be easy enough to tell what fairy-tale inspired each one, but I might include explanation about the original for some of the more obscure ones.

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**Bone-White and the Seven Kobolds**

Once, long ago, there was a Matron Mother of a House. Matron mother she called herself, but she had no child, and feared that as a result she would lose control of her House. As she sat in front of her ebony-framed mirror, she nicked her skin accidentally with her carven-bone comb. Seeing the blood fall, she wished to the Spider Goddess that she could have a daughter with hair white as bone, skin black as ebony, and eyes red as blood.

In time, she fell pregnant, and to the beautiful daughter who resulted, she gave two names; one, her true name, of her House... and to the public, the name Bone-White.

However, the price for her wish came calling. She sickened and died, and her younger sister took control of her House and her consort.

Her sister raised Bone-White, for a time, but swiftly grew jealous of her beauty, and dreaded the thought of her becoming a fabled priestess, for she might claim back the House.

Thus, she commanded her consort to take the child away and kill her, and bring back some token of the death.

He led Bone-White away, deep into the caves, but as he raised his knife he recalled that she was his own child. He cut a lock of her hair and ordered her to run, far from their home. Then, cutting his own hand to mark it, he brought back to the Matron mother the bloodied lock of hair.

She rejoiced, then, for her control of the House was now unquestioned.

Bone-White, meanwhile, fled further into the caves, until she was utterly lost. She stumbled into the home of seven kobolds by mistake, and when they returned to their home to find her there, she quickly convinced them not to kill her or drive her away, promising to use her magic to help them hunt for food. This tiny group had no magic-users, and agreed.

Bone-White lived with them for years, learning to make traps as they did. She might have stayed forever, but the Matron Mother dabbled in things best left untouched, calling a spirit into the family mirror.

"Mirror spirit, tell me true, Who threatens most my House's due?" she demanded.

"Beware revenge from a blood-line fight, Beware the exile, young Bone-White," it responded.

"That's impossible! She is dead!" the Matron Mother cried out.

"She lives yet. She dwells far from here, with seven kobolds."

The Matron Mother flew into a rage and killed her consort for disobeying her. Then, she vowed to hunt down and kill Bone-White.

She sent her eldest son to find Bone-White and kill her. He crept through the darkness until he came to the home of the kobolds. There, however, he fell into a trap Bone-White herself had set. Finding him in it, she killed him and dragged him away as food for her mushroom farm.

The Matron Mother, hearing nothing from her son, sent the first of her daughters to hunt Bone-White. The daughter was cunning, and disguised herself as a trader.

She passed by the home of the kobolds, selling jewellery.

Bone-White, ever a lover of beautiful things, came to inspect the gems. When she held a certain sapphire, however, the daughter unleashed a water elemental trapped within it, and then retreated to watch the battle.

The water elemental fought Bone-White until the young drow maiden was exhausted, but she managed to destroy it, falling weakly to her knees. Gleefully, the daughter approached her.

"Our Matron Mother sends her regards, Cousin Bone-White," she gloated, raising her sword.

Bone-White smiled, whirled, and stabbed her, having been pretending to be far more tired than she was. As before, she dragged the body away to feed her mushroom farm, which gave food to Bone-White and the kobolds even when their traps were empty.

Enraged by this failure, the Matron Mother herself sought out Bone-White, hurling an orb through her window that turned the girl to stone. With that, she turned and left, smiling to herself at her victory.

Years passed. The kobolds kept the dust from the statue of Bone-White, but could do no more from her.

Then, one day, a young drow came passing by, who had fled the city when his theft of items from others had been discovered. He peeked into the house, and saw the statue. Remembering hearing stories of Bone-White, he came closer, feeling enthralled by her beauty.

Luckily, a Stone Salve was among the items he'd stolen. He rubbed some of it onto the statue, and Bone-White was freed.

They made an agreement that night, Bone-White charmed by his good looks and daring.

They crept back into the city, where Bone-White, with his aid, made her way secretly into her childhood home.

Then, they waited for the Matron Mother, who upon seeing Bone-White, immediately began a magical battle with her.

"You have had far less training, Bone-White! You will lose!" she snarled... and then cried out as Bone-White's companion stabbed her from behind, killing her.

They cleansed the House of traitors, and then Bone-White took her rescuer as consort, her House name protecting him from the consequences of his earlier thefts.

She ruled her House as Matron Mother for many years, and had many daughters. From that day on, Bone-White was a power in her city, and all knew never to cross her again.


	2. Silverlocks

**Silverlocks**

Once upon a time, there was a family of quaggoths, living in a cave by themselves. These were clever for quaggoths, and so one day they caught a deep rothé, and set it on a fire to cook. They left a piece out for each of them, and left while the pieces cooled.

While they were gone, a little drow child nicknamed Silverlocks came creeping into their home. She liked to wander, but it made her very hungry. She tried the rothe meat - the first piece was too raw. She tried the second piece, and it was nearly burned. The third piece, however, was perfect, and so she ate it.

She looked around at the stone carvings the quaggoths had made. They weren't very good, and so she was careless, dropping one and breaking it.

Then, feeling both tired and overconfident, she curled herself in the pile of furs that served them for a sleeping place.

While she rested, the quaggoths returned.

"My food gone!" the youngest called. They shared out the remaining food.

"My stones broke!" it called again. This they ignored.

"Nestfurs full!" They gathered around their furs, seeing the drow girl there.

Silverlocks woke, but did not scream, much too brave for that. Instead, she levitated up out of the furs, killed the father quaggoth, then the mother quaggoth, but the youngest quaggoth she led home as an apology to her mother for running off, and so it was tamed to serve their House. Silverlocks was more careful where she wandered in future.


	3. The Boy Favoured By Spiders

**The Boy Favoured By Spiders**

Deep within the city, there was once a very common drow family. They had no daughters, but they had three living sons. Their names have been swallowed by time, and so their first was nicknamed for this tale Tall, the second Sharp, and the third Dark.

These boys were very handsome, and their mother paid much of her money to a priestess to have their futures told. The answer was cryptic. "For Tall, the water. For Sharp, the blade. For Dark a lady of the Second House."

Their mother worried long and hard at this. Taken one way, it meant their deaths. Taken another, it would seem to promise good fortune. And so Tall was sent away to fish at the lake, Sharp to be a soldier, and Dark they kept at home.

The older boys were angry at this, and so they lured Dark out into the caves and left him to die, fearing he would surpass them.

While he was wandering in the caves, he saw a spider drowning in a pool of water. Remembering his duty to the Spider Goddess, he took off his tunic and let the end fall into the water, giving the spider a way to climb out. It scurried out, and then went back and forth, back and forth, until he followed it.

In time, it led him to an ancient treasure. He could not carry it all, and so he left much of it behind when the spider led him back home.

His brothers were jealous and enraged that Dark had come home rich. This only got worse when Dark happened to glimpse a noblewoman on the street, and she in return saw him. When she was finished speaking to him, he had given her his treasures, and had promised to bring more.

He returned to his house, and told his brothers about the treasure. They agreed to come along, though plotting to kill him and take all of the treasure for themselves.

They found the hoard, led by Dark... and then they killed him, and brought the treasure back themselves. On the way back, Tall slipped and fell in the lake. He drowned, weighed down by his prizes.

Sharp went on alone, but in his hands a jewelled dagger slipped and cut him, and the ancient poison on it killed him.

Things might have remained as this, but the noblewoman found in her chambers spiders weaving maps. She and her retinue followed one such map, and found the treasure, and with it Dark's body. She had her sister, a strong priestess, cast a spell of resurrection, and Dark lived again.

He went back with her, and became her consort, and never mourned his murderous brothers, who'd earned the ends to their prophesied fates. And from then on he lived in luxury such as he had never seen in the home of his birth.

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**A/N:** This form of tale is very old, and appears with multiple variations, from Androcles and the Lion to any number of tales with princes or other protagonists pausing to help a beast that helps them in return. Personally, I think in this case Lloth just wanted there to be bloodshed for her personal amusement. She's like that.


	4. Isyr'bel and the Duergar

**A/N:** This one's instead an adaptation of a ballad, 'Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight.' Remarkably, very little of the actual story-line needed changing to make it suitable for drow temperaments.

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**Isyr'bel and the Duergar**

This lovely noble Isyr'bel  
Heir to a mighty House  
Has outwitted the sentinel  
Left quiet as a mouse

He lured her with gems a-glittering, and many rings of gold  
He lured her from her own people, a duergar wizard bold

"Oh take for me a lizard, take for me the swiftest steed  
If we're to reach my palace, then urgent is our need."

She takes a riding lizard, she takes her mother's magic scrolls  
She wraps her cloak about them and out the gate the lizard strolls

This lovely noble Isyr'bel  
Drow-maid without compare  
Rides from her home under a spell  
With rubies in her hair

So long a way they both did ride, to halt beside a lake  
The duergar bade her then dismount, with water her thirst slake

"Deeper now, my drowish dear," the duergar wizard calls.  
"I've drowned eight drow-maidens here, and you'll be ninth in all."

Then her eyes she raised to him, with a pretty little frown  
"Oh, let us rest, I'll comb your beard, some ease before I drown."

Geased promise he laid on her, not to kill him should he sleep  
Then laid his head within her lap and fell to slumber deep

She combed and kept him sleeping with a sweet and peaceful song  
Then bound him with his own sword-belt, the knots all tight and strong

When he could not move at all, until waking he was shaken  
And with a smile, geas gone, with his own knife his life was taken

Quick-witted noble Isyr'bel  
All calculating smiles  
One no mere male could compel  
No matter what his wiles

She took away his treasures, and rode swiftly back to home  
She put straight back her mother's scrolls, no sign they once did roam

"What happened, you were long gone," her halfling slave asks with fear  
"Hush up and say naught of it, and I'll whip you not this year."

Her Matron mother calls out, "What reason for these sounds?  
I hear the slave all alarmed there, and demand now the grounds."

"Oh lady, I heard assassins, so I beg forgiven my trespass  
I called in fear, your daughter came, and now the danger's passed."


	5. The Bat Wizard

**A/N**: Need I even say it? 'The Frog Prince,' naturally.  
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**The Bat Wizard**

There was once a young noble drow maiden who liked to sit on the roof of her family home to clean her jewellery. While she was polishing her Ring of Protection one day, it slipped from her fingers and fell down the side of the house. It landed on a ledge full of spider-webs.

Then the drow maiden was upset, because she needed that ring, and yet if she tried to reach it, she would disturb the webs and thereby anger the Spider Goddess.

A tiny voice spoke up from nearby. "Lady, if you promise to fill my requests after, I will get your ring." It was a little bat. "I can fly to it and bring it back to you without disturbing the webs."

"All right," she agreed. "I promise to fill your requests after, if they bring no harm to me." For she wanted that ring, but knew far better than to promise without any limitations to some unknown creature.

The bat flew down, and brought her back her ring. She took it and hurried inside, gathering up her other jewellery as she went.

That night, the bat fluttered around the house at dinner. "Let me in as you promised!" it called.

Her mother asked her why a bat was saying such things, and she explained.

"A speaking bat is a thing of magic. Keep your promise," her mother commanded of her... though partly, it must be said, because her daughter needed to learn her place and tending an animal might assist there.

Reluctantly, the drow maiden let the bat in. It requested a place beside her and food from her plate, and she gave it these things.

When her meal was over, she left the table, wishing to go to bed and trance.

"Give me a place upon your pillow," the bat requested.

Her eyes narrowed, but she set the bat down upon the pillow. Then, with no witnesses, she stabbed it, planning to tell her mother it had flown away.

There was a flash of light, and a very handsome drow wizard now lay upon her bed, alive and unharmed.

"Thank you," he told her. "I was cursed into bat form by a rival. You've finally set me free."

"Well then," she announced, "that means _you_ owe _me_ now, not the other way around."

With his help, she took over as Matron Mother of her House. He became her consort, and together they killed his old rival. With their cunning and their powers, they killed any who opposed them, and became powerful in the city.


	6. Mizzil

**Mizzil  
**  
Once in Menzoberranzan there was a woman with three living sons and no daughters. This, of course, made her very unhappy, far more so than usual, for she had once vowed to send a daughter to take her place as a priestess. If she could not do so, she feared that Lloth would be angry with her.

Up came her eldest son, and said, "Mother, disguise me as a woman and I will go to Arach-Tinilith to be a priestess."

She was very much afraid at this, that he would be found out, and so she tested him. He dressed as a woman, but when she asked him a question as he left the house he forgot to disguise his voice, and so she would not let him go.

Her second son came to her and said, "Mother, disguise me as a woman and I will go to Arach-Tinilith to be a priestess and take your place."

She would not help him, but let him disguise himself, but when he tried to dress as a woman he could not pass, and so she would not let him go.

Her third son, a boy known as Mizzil, came to her and said, "Mother, I will take your place, if I can."

"How can you succeed where your brothers failed?" she asked of him, but let him try.

Mizzil, in secret, purchased a certain enchanted leather belt and put it on, transforming him entirely into a woman. His mother then sent him off, quite happily.

In Arach-Tinilith, he adapted swiftly to the new way of things, and became a successful priestess-in-training. However, a rival, investigating Mizzil's past, discovered a rumour that his mother had borne no daughters.

"How can we prove it?" she asked of an ally.

"We can set the spiders loose. We will know if Mizzil is male by that."

They therefore loosed a number of tamed spiders amongst the group. Mizzil, however, saw the look in their eyes, and thus knew to be careful, not flinching from the spiders and treating them instead with respect.

"We still need to prove it," his rival insisted later.

Her ally suggested, "We will take Mizzil with us to choose priestess garb."

They took Mizzil with them, but Mizzil again saw the look in their eyes. Thus, he put on the clothes of a priestess, showing no discomfort about the body they revealed.

"There must be a way!" His rival was furious by now.

"A surprise attack, and see which weapons are chosen," her ally decided.

And so they staged an ambush by suitably manipulated males, and watched Mizzil closely. Again, they were thwarted, as Mizzil reached swiftly for the whip of fangs rather than a sword.

With this, Mizzil's rival seethed, but decided to bide her time.

At their graduation, however, there was one final test, and under the touch of a yochlol, a Handmaiden of Lloth, Mizzil's mind was read and his secret revealed.

For his blasphemy, he was transformed into a drider, his family were executed, and all was well once again in Menzoberranzan, without a male straying from his ordained place.

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**A/N:** A little jarring? Maybe. But this _is_ a drow tale, with drow social and religious mores. Story is an adaptation of the many tales of a young woman dressing as a man to serve her father's place when he's called to return to a ruler's service. You might recall it from Mulan, but the particular Western version touched upon here is known as 'Mizilca.'  
And, as a bonus to anybody who's been patient enough to reach this point, I present an alternate ending to the tale, as it might look in secretly altered versions of the book, or from less fanatical drow locations... or more heretical.

* * *

_With this, Mizzil's rival seethed, but decided to buy her time._

Her triumph was not to be, however, as Mizzil had so deeply transformed that he fooled all around him. In his new form, he became a strong priestess, and served in his mother's place for a great many years.


	7. Brother and Sister

**A/N:** Based upon the classic 'Brother and Sister' tale that is often confused with or conflated with the names of Hansel and Gretel, but is in actuality unrelated.

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**Brother and Sister**

Once among the drow, there were a brother and sister, of a great and noble bloodline that had fallen on hard times. The brother was training to be a warrior, the sister a priestess, but both were still quite young. A distant member of their kin, of a lesser part of the House, took control over the House while they were away at their training, but a servant managed to slip forth and warn them not to return, lest they die to make room for their kinswoman's own children.

They turned and left the city, slipping forth into the Wilds, seeking to escape such a fate.

They had not gone too far before the sister became thirsty, and wanted to drink from a pool of water nearby.

"Brother, there is a pool here. I will have water."

Her brother bowed his head, but looked closely upon the pool, and saw that it had not lain unused.

"Sister, please, do not drink, for the kuo-toa have been here, and I fear you may be trapped and drowned."

Annoyed but accepting the necessity, the sister agreed to continue. Soon, however, she became thirsty again.

"Brother, there is a pool here, and I must have water."

Her brother bowed his head, but gazed upon the water, and heard in its ripples the truth of a curse; whoever drank from the water would be transformed most hideously into a terrible hook horror.

"Sister, please, do not drink; you will become a hook horror and devour me, and then wander alone in the caves."

His sister scowled, but they walked on.

At last, they reached another pool, and the sister cast so scornful a glance at her brother that he drew back in fear of her anger, and did not hear the truth until it was too late; whoever drank from the water would become a bat.

"Sister, wait," he cried, but she was drinking already.

Her clothing slid away as she shrank into the form of a bat, dim-sighted and small.

The brother gathered up his sister's belongings, and caught her in her own skirt. Then, holding her close, he hurried on.

"I will find a place for us until the curse can be broken," he vowed, and searched long amid the tunnels until he found a passage that seemed safe enough to shelter.

They stayed there for years, and in time he grew to understand her bat-squeaks just as though they were speech.

"I will fly where I please," she told him, one day.

"You will, but please take care, and return soon," he begged.

She flew away, and did not return for many days. Her brother grew worried, until at last she returned, barely able to fly on a wounded wing.

"Where did you go?" the brother asked as he treated her wound.

"I returned to the city to see what has become of our House, but I was shot at by the crossbows of a patrol."

"Please do not go back there," her brother told her, not wishing to be left alone in the Wilds.

"I will fly where I please," was all she said to him.

When she had recovered, she flew out again, back to the city. There, she crept to her House, fluttering about and acting so unbatlike that her kinswoman sent soldiers to track and follow her.

She evaded them three times, and each time they reported failure. At last, her kinswoman was so angry that she chose to follow the bat herself.

The sister flew back, away from the city, her kinswoman following, also in bat form due to a spell. She flew back to her brother and whispered urgently in his ear, and as their kinswoman flew closer, he raised his crossbow and shot her down.

She transformed back into herself as she fell, and the siblings rejoiced, for their lives would no longer be in danger from her.

Then, they remembered that as long as the sister remained cursed, she could not claim her rightful place. Still, the brother urged her not to lose her ambitions. He searched the body of their kinswoman and found numerous valuable items.

He then wrapped his sister close in fabric and returned to the city.

There, in exchange for the items he'd found, he paid a wizard to break the curse, and his sister was restored to her own form.

They returned in triumph to their House, the sister punishing their usurping kin and becoming Matron Mother. The brother remained there as her weaponsmaster, valued for his skills and for the deeds he'd accomplished in aiding her, and both remained strong and restored their House to its proper glory with their determination.


	8. Wyrm Princess

**A/N:** Based upon a form of tale that includes the Scandinavian 'Prince Lindworm' story, albeit gender-swapped here.**  
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**Wyrm Princess  
**  
Once, far away, there was a woman of no children. In order to have an heir, she sought out the strongest spells she could find; and the strongest of all came from a dragon.

In time she became pregnant, and gave birth to a daughter; but the daughter was a terrible twisted thing, of appearance akin to the wyrms. The wyrm-child's mother knew she would have no other children, and so she raised the girl as a princess of her House regardless, and kept her from sight.

The wyrm princess grew to adulthood in the normal span of years, but all efforts to change her to a proper drow-maid were in vain. Not by plea or by prayer could her dreadful glowing eyes be dimmed, nor her claws be blunted, nor her scales soften.

In time, she decided that she desired a consort. Her mother advised her to buy one, but she said she'd have one choose her or none at all, for any man who flinched before her she would devour.

And so she set out, searching for a consort. Many men seeking higher status approached her upon hearing the tale, but all flinched at the last, and so all were torn apart and eaten.

It so happened that a fine young warrior with white-gold hair had heard of the wyrm princess, and he vowed to raise himself in the world thus. Cleverer than those who had come before, he gathered together precious goods and took them to the dragon whose spells had engendered the princess.

Its greed appeased by the new treasures, the dragon gave him an enchanted ring and instructed him upon what to do; for all his courage, after all, he feared that the wyrm princess's claws would tear him apart if he went to her.

The warrior of the white-gold hair donned every bit of clothing that he could find, layer upon layer, and then met with the wyrm princess,

"Lady," he said, "I know what you seek and I would serve you as your consort."

He held his ground as the wyrm princess drew closer, and slipped the ring onto one of her dreadful clawed fingers.

"Take off those clothes," she demanded of him.

"Lady, I will, if you but take off a skin for each." Upon getting her agreement, he removed the outermost robe of his many pieces of clothing, and the wyrm princess likewise removed a layer of her scaled skin.

Layer after layer came off, until at last as he took off the last of his clothing she stood before him, bare and slim and lovely. The ring tightened on her finger to fit close to her new form, and the warrior drew her close and kissed her and knew that the curse was broken.

She took him away, then, and he served as a loyal and favoured consort to her for many years.


	9. The Lying HerderBoy

**The Lying Herder-Boy**

There was once a young servant-boy who longed to be noticed, yet his tasks were dull and unlikely to bring him the attention he desired. Scrubbing, cleaning, tending the herds; these were not tasks in which legends are born.

One day, as he was tending his House's rothé herds, he decided to try to get attention for himself.

"The svirfneblin," he cried. "They are raiding our rothé herd!"

He raised so great a fuss that warriors came running. When they arrived, he told them that he had driven off the cowardly deep gnomes and saved the herd.

They did not challenge his words, but one of them scoffed at the notion that mere deep gnomes could get so close.

The boy watched them leave, and felt bitter, knowing he still did not have the attention he wanted.

Since even the most foolish drow know one should not try the same lie twice, he sat down and thought of a new foe to blame.

The very next cycle, therefore, he cried out, "Hook horrors! Hook horrors attack the herd!"

Warriors came running, and he told them that his shouts had frightened the monsters away.

The warriors glanced among themselves, and then kicked and struck at him, giving him many sharp blows.

One of them growled to him, "Fool! To lie is one thing, but you lie without knowledge and so insult us. A hook horror hunts using sound, and would have killed and eaten you."

For being found out in his lie, and for thinking it through so poorly, the warriors took him out on their patrol and staked him out as live bait for hook horrors. A hook horror came and tore him apart, and began to eat him, when the warriors used that diversion to kill it in a surprise strike.

They rode home on their lizards and were praised for doing their duty so well, and a new guardian was chosen for the rothé herds. The old one was forgotten forever and his name never spoken again, as he deserved for being such a fool.

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**A/N:** This 'boy who cried wolf' variant comes from the fact drow would get a whole different set of moral lessons out of the story; if you're going to lie, do it well. Also, _as if_ drow would believe something like that more than once... or let it go unpunished.


	10. Ashboy

**Ashboy**

Once, there was a very poor minor House, whose Matron had been overthrown and replaced by her sister. The former Matron's young son was demoted to the lower branches of the family, and his position was taken by his two cousins.

They never missed an opportunity to mock and taunt him, and it was at their wish and at the wish of his aunt that the boy was set to the lowest and grubbiest of jobs. For his time spent scrubbing fireplaces and the ash consequently dulling his white hair, they dubbed him Ashboy, a nickname he greatly resented.

One momentous cycle, news was brought to the House that the eldest daughter of the first House, a great priestess, would look through the city for potential consorts or patrons. She had organised a grand gathering in which eligible males would be paraded before her for her to choose from.

The Matron of this minor House, very excited, commanded that her sons be prepared for the gathering, in their finest clothing, in hopes that they would be chosen and could thereby influence the first House to favour theirs.

Ashboy didn't even bother to ask; he knew he would be punished for such presumption. But the urge burned within him to rise thus in position and shed his life as a servant, and so he watched quietly and bided his time.

When the Matron was out, he crept into the most secret and private of rooms, and there Ashboy performed a ritual to summon a devil to his aid. He bargained long and hard with it, careful not to be trapped into losing his soul to the fiend.

When the time of the gathering drew near, the Matron and her sons went there, eager to take their chance. The eldest fumbled his bow of greeting, however, and was fortunate indeed that the daughter of the first House merely dismissed him to see the next male. The younger of the two was so nervous that his chosen magic trick exploded in his face; it drew laughter, but no more than that.

Angry with her sons, the Matron was about to leave, when a remarkably handsome drow male entered the room. His hair was long and gleamed white in even the dimmest of lights, and his trappings were of silver, obsidian and rubies.

The first daughter looked at him, and immediately decided that she wanted him. She beckoned him closer and asked him his name.

The Matron, listening, did not recognise the name, for he had been called Ashboy in her home for so long that the family had forgotten his birth-name.

As darkcycle ended, Ashboy made his excuses with all possible courtesy, and slipped away; his fine gear was already dissolving upon his body as he vanished into the shadows. One silver wrist-cuff, however, freed from its bindings, fell to the floor, unnoticed.

He hurried home to disguise himself once more with the ashes of the fireplace.

Left behind, the wrist-cuff was found by servants of the first House's daughter, and she, being of a dark humour, decreed that only one who could wear the cuff would be her consort.

The Matron decided to take a risk, and sent her sons to the first House once again. When the eldest placed the cuff about his wrist, its enchantments were revealed, and it burned with terrible heat, so that he burned his fingers badly pulling it off. The younger also tried it on, and did his best to hide the agony of the burning, in hopes he would be accepted and could take it off again.

However, he was not accepted by the waiting priestess of the first House, and was forced to pull it off; so badly burned was his wrist that it was obvious his hand would be useless forever afterwards.

Ashboy, meanwhile, had crept back there himself, and in time presented himself. Being cleverer than his cousins, and possessed of an advantage they did not have, upon seeing the enchantment the priestess had placed upon the cuff, he resolved not to try it on.

Instead, he held out his other arm, with the cuff's mate shining upon it, as proof that the cuff would fit his wrists.

The priestess laughed, amused by his cunning, and affirmed that he was indeed the one she sought. She gave his cousins to him that their fates might be decided, whereupon he called the fiend to him once more, and gave his cousins over to it, for they had been the price he'd sworn to pay for the aid he had been given; and thus he had his revenge for the way they had mocked and belittled him.

He left his former House behind, and served the daughter of the First House well, being at her side when she ascended to the position of Matron, and was there to see great power wielded over all of the city. And thus his days passed, in this prestigious position.

* * *

**A/N:** A drowish _Cinderella_, even gender-changed to suit, could hardly be expected to use the old 'sob and rely on fairy godmother' business. You work for your successes, and do the dirty deeds if that's what it takes.


	11. Duergar, Lake, and Clever Donaz

**A/N:** This story is based upon an old Celtic tale, known in at least one of its many variants as 'Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary.' The protagonist showing great cunning after being initially wronged is common to the original tale, which perhaps suggests that it is not wise to underestimate even the lowliest...

* * *

**Duergar, Lake, and Clever Donaz**

Once, there was a very poor drow, Donaz by name, so poor that he owned but one rothé, and there were many that looked down upon him. Shamefully, even some outsiders felt they were above him by reason of their greater wealth.

One day, a pair of duergar merchants whose last sale had gone amiss decided that perhaps the shred of profit that would come from the beast belonging to Donaz would give them the money they sought. And so they crept to it while he lay resting, and cut its throat, so that it died without a sound.

But Donaz, wakeful, rushed to his rothé, and found it dead upon the cold stone. He sighed and resolved to get some money for it however he could. And so he skinned it, and sold the meat, and brought the coins from the meat along with him when he took the hide to sell.

But he cut slits into the hide, and slipped some of the coins into those slits.

Now Donaz went to the tavern where a servant of the merchants was drinking, and there he feigned getting drunk, and extolled the virtues of his marvellous enchanted rothé hide. He slapped it with one hand, and out popped a coin.

The merchants' servant stared, eyes all beady with greed. "I'm thinking to buy that off you," he told Donaz, sure that the profit he could turn here would make the merchants value him greatly.

"Ah, but this hide is my livelihood," Donaz protested. "It has kept me in the money I need for so very long." He slapped the hide again, and out popped another coin.

"I can make you rich quickly," the servant promised.

And so they began to bargain, clever Donaz slapping the hide each time the haggling slowed, until he'd regained all the coins he'd put there. And then he sold it for a fat purse of gold, and hurried away, counting himself fortunate.

The merchants' servant, meanwhile, tested his new trinket; finding it useless, he blamed another servant for the gold lost, and thus preserved his own skin.

Donaz, on the other hand, was checking his new coins when the merchants came upon him next. They were amazed to see him with so much money, and asked where he'd got it.

"Why, from the beast you so kindly helped me slaughter," he said. "The carcasses are going for a fine price just now."

Seeking profit, the duergar bought up many rothé, and slaughtered them, selling off the carcasses. But their asking price was so high that all thought them mad, and one offended noble took every last carcass from them without granting them a single coin.

Furious, the merchants vowed to take revenge upon Donaz for lying to them. They stuffed him in a sack, so that they could take him and throw him in the lake. They had errands, however, and so left his sack beside their wagon.

Donaz, angry, began to put together a plan. "I won't have it, I won't," he called ceaselessly from inside the sack, until a passer-by, a human trader of the bazaar, asked what was going on.

"I won't have it, I tell you," Donaz insisted.

"Won't have what?"

"I won't be presented to the Matron, for all she vowed to grant me my weight in gold." And so he spun a tale of how he had routed a foe and a reward had been insisted upon, but how he preferred his rivals not to know who he was, and greatly feared for his life should he be presented.

So compelling was his story, that at length the trader let him out and changed places with him, greedy for his weight in gold.

Donaz slipped away and took over the man's stall, the duergar returned, and without further ado, they took the sack to the lake and threw it in.

They were shocked beyond belief when they returned to find Donaz alive, whole, wealthy, and happy to see them.

"Thank you, dear friends," he said exuberantly. "For without your aid I'd never have had the courage to enter the lake and find any of the treasures hidden there. But there was so much I couldn't carry it all, and so I've found potions to let me breathe underwater, so I can go back and get more."

The duergar, stunned, begged to come along, to find the precise spot with the treasure. Once there, they grabbed his potion bottles and drank them down, leaving none for him, and dived into the water.

Donaz stood on the lake's edge and laughed at them. "Happy are dwarves who down poison so readily," he gloated, as the liquid stole their strength and let them slip into the dark water, never to return.

Then, greatly pleased with himself, Donaz returned to the city, claiming all the goods of the two duergar. With these new treasures, he bought greater comfort for himself, and lived amid the luxuries bought by his wits.


	12. The Princeling and the Pebble

**The Princeling and the Pebble**

There was once a drow princess of a great House, who sought for herself a fine consort, who might become her patron if she became Matron Mother. Her servants searched all through the city, and even looked to drow from other cities, but no House's son was all that she desired, and she would not content herself with less than her ideal.

One cycle of Narbondel, much like any other, a drow male in ragged clothes, yet with the fine long hair of the highborn, sought entry into her House. He claimed to be a prince of his House, a direct son of its Matron.

"We shall see," said the princess, and directed the princeling male to a guest chamber.

There, a servant slipped a tiny pebble beneath a great many mattresses and blankets.

The night passed, and when she met her guest, she asked how he had rested.

"Oh, lady," he said, reverently, "it was a terrible night. Some great boulder bruised me mightily, and I could not enter Reverie at all."

The princess had the pebble brought to her, and realised that this male must be sensitive indeed to have felt it through so many layers.

And so she tormented him for many nights, exploiting his sensitivity, precisely as he deserved for being both so weak and soft, and so foolish as to have complained and revealed it. And his pain taught her much of the nerves of a body.

She then went out and found a stronger male to be her consort, and thus avoided bearing weak or stupid children who would bring her House into disrepute. And so her success pleased her greatly, and her consort served her well.

* * *

**A/N:** The original of this tale always bothered or irritated me a little, glossing over as it did that the primary purpose in those days of 'finding a princess' was to locate a suitable woman to give one an heir. How would a woman dainty enough to feel a pea through mattresses get through childbirth? Fortunately, the drow are pragmatic and would prefer strong bloodlines, not dainty weakness, to be passed down to their daughters.


	13. The Matron's New Clothes

**The Matron's New Clothes**

A pair of human tailors once attached themselves to a trade caravan, and found their way into a drow city. Once there, they began to hawk their wares; they claimed they could create so beautiful and mystical a cloth that it would tap into the Divine Realms, and only those deemed unfit to live by their patron deity would be unable to see it.

The retinue of a Matron Mother, hearing of this, brought the tailors into her household, and commissioned them to make for her a fine new costume of this magnificent fabric.

The tailors were delighted to think of the money they'd make, and set themselves up in a secluded room. There, they lounged about, enjoying luxury and ease, for in truth there was no such cloth at all.

Now and then, the Matron sent servants to check up on their progress; afraid of being considered unfit to live, these servants reported back that the cloth was beautiful beyond compare.

At last, the day came when the tailors claimed the clothing was ready. The Matron stood before a mirror, and watched as they pretended to drape the 'clothing' about her naked form. Her servants praised the clothing once again, but the Matron seemed unmoved.

At last, she smiled, and told the tailors how pleased she was with their work. As payment, she said, she would give them wondrous armour, which could be seen only by those who had not cheated others that day.

The tailors struggled to hold their smiles in place as drow servants pretended to place armour about them.

"Now," the Matron said, "you are safe from any threat in the Underdark, I am sure. But I must put upon myself my jewellery." With that, she donned jewelled cuffs, belt, and necklaces of such ornate kinds that they covered some of what was lacking; and, indeed, the ornaments were enchanted to protect her so well that she needed neither armour nor clothing.

And the tailors stared in dismay, for the Matron had no flaws to hide beneath cloth, and thus felt free to bare her skin and prove this.

They had given nothing, been given nothing in return; worse than nothing, for they were driven out of the city, where the beasts of the Underdark soon killed them. The servants foolish enough to lie were punished, and the Matron reigned over her House, bringing fear and envy to the hearts of her rivals with her daring and her unflawed and unhidden form. And the Spider Goddess was pleased, for shame and doubt ill befit her chosen people.

* * *

**A/N:** Drow, of course, seeing clothes as either tools of protection or covering up flaws, aren't big on this whole 'modesty' thing. So a Matron's a bit harder to humiliate than an Emperor... and has probably planned for your attempt well in advance.


	14. A Drow Llothmas Special

**A/N:** This is considerably closer to original content as opposed to a retold fairy-tale, whipped up because I was in a festive mood. Wishing all the best to readers, whatever you celebrate and whoever you celebrate it with. A fine end of year to you all - and to those reading this later, a fine any part of the year to you too. :)

* * *

**A Drow Llothmas Special**

There was once a drow House struggling to raise their fortunes and standing. They were not wealthy yet, but they were clever and ambitious.

The Matron turned, one night, to her consort, and commanded him to seek an idea that would improve their status; for if his ideas proved wrong, she could discard him and let all the blame rest upon him, not harming her own chances.

Knowing this, the consort, Sanazi Ni'klaas, thought for a long while, before hitting upon an idea. The Festival of the Founding, where the Spider Goddess was said to appear personally in her chosen city to test her people, was often the rise or fall of a House.

He went out, into the trade quarter, where the merchants were, and there he donned the red garb favoured by a certain trader's servants and messengers.

He went to a duergar merchant, first, who had a great deal of food for sale, and told him with many clever words that his master desired the food to buy for another market. He went about, here and there, telling a great many things to the merchants, always crediting the matter to someone else entirely.

The consort was, however, in a hurry; he dared not deal poorly with any merchant on the day of the Festival itself, lest it be Lloth in disguise, for all drow of the city knew that she might assume any guise to demand hospitality on that one day in which even the lesser creatures must not be turned away.

And so, swiftly, he concluded his business.

A great many goods were stored in a warehouse that he'd neglected to mention belonged to his House, leaving the former owners to demand payment of those they mistakenly believed had bought their goods. And so, he was able to bring a great supply of food and of luxuries, so that the House might hold a great feast on that day, to show all others that they had wealth and influence.

He came to the Matron, still dressed in his red messenger clothes, and guided her to the head of the table, placing before her gems and gifts; even those others who had been invited were granted gifts, to prove this House had money enough to throw away on gifts to others. And when he told the Matron how he had done this, she laughed long and hard.

The feast of House Ni'klaas was a great success, and Lloth favoured them that day, letting them rise higher in rank, so that they could claim the tools to better themselves still further.

And all was well for them that day, and it was remembered for many years afterwards.

* * *

_Merry Llothmas to all, and to all a good night!_


	15. The Book of Lloth

**A/N:** This story is an adaptation of a tale from Ancient Egypt, 'The Book of Thoth,' given the usual drowification. A tale, perhaps, for slightly older readers among the young drow, but a lesson I'm sure they'd all want to learn well...

* * *

**The Book of Lloth**

There was once a young priestess, Kazanef, who was the eldest daughter of the Matron Mother of a mighty House. She had a young daughter of her own, Meraza, a child of great promise, and a powerful wizard for her consort, Xahuran. This priestess Kazanef had a clever and able mind, yet her ambitions were deemed lacking, for she cared only for ancient lore, and the tales of priestesses who had done great things in times long gone.

In one fateful hour, she went to the greatest temple of the city, to witness the rites there, but was distracted by carvings upon the walls, depicting scenes of ancient power, and it was all she could do to pay enough attention that she would not be seen as lacking piety. When the ritual ended, she lingered, puzzling out the story told by the carvings.

An older priestess, seeing her there, laughed at her.

"Why do you laugh?" Kazanef asked.

"Because you look so closely upon a tale of so little consequence. If you truly wish to read something of importance, only the ancient and hidden texts will be suitable."

"What texts are these?"

The older priestess told her, "There is the ancient Book of Lloth, a tome written by the very hands of the Spider Goddess herself. It was hidden long ago, that others should not know its power. It is said that she who reads even the first shall command spiderkind utterly, and they shall do her bidding in her holy devotions; and to read more pages will give the reader gifts of great dominion over those who walk the caverns, those who come from the Abyss, and even the very shadows themselves."

"I must read this," Kazanef vowed, heart aflame with the longing for that power. "Do you know where it can be found?"

"I do," the older priestess said. "And I will tell you... for a price."

"Name your price, and I will pay it," Kazanef promised.

"Two hundred slaves do I require, to give to the Goddess, to show the devotion of my House," came the reply, and Kazanef agreed.

She went out to the servants of her House, and had them purchase the slaves that were to be the other priestess's sacrifice, and gave them over to her. Then, at last, the priestess agreed to tell her where the Book might be found.

"It waits in a cavern five cycles' time of travel from the city, to the south. A great stone staircase leads down to a shrine. In the shrine, there is an iron box.

In the iron box, there is a copper box.

In the copper box, there is a silver box.

In the silver box, there is an adamantine box.

In the adamantine box, there is a gold box.

In the gold box, there is a mithral box.

And in that mithral box is the book you seek. About it, there wait many venomous creatures, and a great spider who cannot be killed; she is the guardian of the Book."

Kazanef rejoiced to hear this, and rushed from the temple to prepare for her journey. She told her consort Xahuran of the prize that seemed so close now, but he was troubled to hear it.

"Great Lady," he said humbly, "I will follow you wherever you command, but is it truly right to disturb the book, if the Dark Mother set it there to keep it from the hands of her children?"

"We shall see," was all Kazanef said, and Xahuran fell silent, though he was sure that trouble would come of it.

Kazanef went, then, to her Matron Mother, and sought supplies for the journey, promising to return with power that would make the city tremble before them. With the supplies granted, she feasted and celebrated until it was time to depart, and all who had known her wondered at the change that had come over her, for she had never been one to indulge in the luxuries that were her birthright.

When the time came, she set out, taking Xahuran with her, and his spells eased their way as they travelled. Yet when they reached the cavern, he halted at the staircase, sure that it was not his place to enter into a shrine of the Spider Goddess, for he was but a male, and thus no priestess.

Going on alone, Kazanef descended to the shrine, and found the many creatures there, but she used her power as a priestess to forbid them to move; and so they were still, and she felt triumph.

The great spider came forth, and spoke in a terrible voice, warning her to leave or be accursed and devoured. Kazanef ignored this, and readied herself for battle.

The struggle was terrible; many times the spider came close to slaying her, and many times she struck it with deadly blows, only to discover that all pieces of the great spider rejoined with its body when torn away, so that it could not die.

She turned the very stone beneath it to mud, then, and hewed it while it struggled there; and then Kazanef cast mud between the pieces, so that they were unable to rejoin.

It was helpless, then, and promised her one last time that she would become accursed for her blasphemy, before it fell still and silent.

Kazanef proceeded onward, and came to the centre of the shrine, where the iron box lay. From the iron box, she took the box of copper; from the copper box, she took the box of silver; from the silver box, she took the box of adamantine; from the adamantine box, she took the box of gold; from the gold box, she took the box of mithral; and from the mithral box, she brought forth the Book of Lloth.

Triumphant, she opened its pages then and there, and began to read, and the secrets within filled her with great power. She lifted the book and took it away, back up the staircase.

There, waiting for her, was Xahuran, and he saw the power in her eyes and was afraid. He did not speak, but only followed her out of the cavern, back toward the city.

Now the Spider Goddess knew the moment her Book had been touched, and her sight was drawn to that place; she saw what had been done there, and her fury was awakened. She vowed that she would take revenge upon her over-prideful priestess, and that Kazanef would truly know the curse of her displeasure.

But she was patient, as the spiders that are her symbol are patient; she waited until Kazanef had borne the Book back to her House, before sending her power forth.

It was Meraza, Kazanef's daughter, who knew it first; amid the triumph of the House at the power of the Book, she woke screaming from her rest time and time again, crying that a terrible ghostly spider hunted her through her dreams. At last, it caught her, and she never woke again.

Kazanef sought to speak with her daughter's spirit, and from that spirit she heard the truth; she heard that the Spider Goddess was angry at the theft, and was taking her vengeance. Bitterly Kazanef cursed the ill-fate that had stolen away the daughter who would in time have been her heir.

The next to die were the servants, who lay down to rest one night and never rose again to serve the House, and all who yet lived trembled. The soldiers were taken the next night, depriving the House of its warriors, and Kazanef's kin cursed her arrogance, that had brought this doom upon them.

They imprisoned her, vowing to sacrifice her, hoping to avert the wrath of the goddess with the death of the one who had committed this blasphemy. Yet this sacrifice never came about, for the ghostly spider stalked them through their dreams, and slew them all.

Kazanef knew nothing of it until Xahuran came to free her, and said bitterly to her, "Hail, Matron Mother, you have come into your inheritance at last."

And Kazanef raged, and sobbed aloud, for the power she had stolen had turned the power of her birthright to bitter ashes; she was the Matron now, of a House whose last noble was herself, and there were only the dead for her to command, save only Xahuran. She longed to strike him for his insolence, but he was her last remaining ally, and she dared not.

Instead, she turned a beguiling look upon her consort, and said, "We may yet beget a new line of mighty drow nobles together."

Yet as they lay side by side, the ghostly spider stalked through Xahuran's mind; it did not kill him, but spoke instead at length, giving him many commands. He rose alone, and walked from that place, and sealed up every entrance to the fortress of the House with a power he had never before possessed.

He walked then through the city, crying aloud his tale, so that all would know what had come to pass; back and forth he walked, telling the tale again and again. At last, he spoke the tale before the doors of the great temple itself, and fell dead there, before the eyes of the listening priestesses.

They knew, then, that the vengeance of Lloth had come to pass, and the House that had stood so mighty was no more; but the Book remained with Kazanef, sealed with its thief for all the time to come, and her spirit was its guardian eternal.

* * *

**A/N:** Such a _cheery_ little tale. But when the Goddess says don't touch, you're probably better off listening.


	16. Zaemund and the Dark School

**A/N:** This story's origin comes from a type of tale whose examples include 'The Black School,' from Iceland, and 'Black Airt,' from Scotland.

* * *

**Zaemund and the Dark School**

There was once in a far-off cavern a mighty school of wizardry, whose name was whispered in many drow cities. Many were those who learned at other schools of magic, but this Dark School took rarer pupils. Those drow with great gifts went there, and learned arts of magic and ancient lore known by few others.

The students studied together, and were held within the walls of their Dark School for all the years of their learning, never straying outside or sending word home to their kin. They ate together, and mage-crafted hands brought them their food and took away empty trays, for no servants lived within this silent school.

Most wizards require some candle or other to read their tomes, but the students lived ever in darkness; the books from which they learned were written in fiery letters that needed no other light to be seen.

It was a place of great knowledge, but there was danger also, for one rule there was that the last student to leave in every graduating year would be seized and kept by the master of the school, as the price of the knowledge bestowed upon all of the students. It was whispered, too, that the students taken were given to a demon with whom the school's master had made a pact. There was, consequently, much plotting and rushing at the end of each year, each student doing their best not to be the last.

One student there, Zaemund, a clever and studious young drow, thought long and hard about the matter. He knew it was likely enough that the others would seek to make him the last, for they were jealous of how much he had learned, and how easily new spells came to him.

At last he resolved that it was better to choose the inevitable course, and in choosing turn it to his liking, rather than to be forced to that fate and lose all choice. He made merry in their last days there, and told the other students that he did not believe there was any demon at all. Surely, he claimed, the last student was kept only so that the Dark School might always have new teachers. He professed himself eager for the advanced lore he might be given in such a case.

The other students, certain of the demon's existence, thought him foolish, but said nothing. If he was so willing to remain, it was all the better for them, after all; they would leave safely.

Finally, the time came to leave, and all of the other students hurried forth, glad to be out. Close behind them came Zaemund – and close behind _him_ came something else.

Zaemund glanced back over his shoulder, and saw a patch of deeper darkness, lit only faintly by a pair of glowing eyes. He knew, then, for certain, that the demon was real and had come for him.

"You are mine," it growled, reaching for him.

Swiftly, Zaemund cast a spell of light before him. "I am not the last," he cried, pointing to the wall. "See, there is the last!"

The demon reached to grab at the figure upon the wall, and Zaemund fled, leaving the thing to grasp his shadow if it could.

Zaemund became known far and wide for his cleverness and his mighty spells, becoming a powerful and skilled wizard. In the dark, he seemed as any other drow. But whenever any light fell upon him, the truth became known; he had no shadow ever after, for what the fiendish powers take, they keep.


End file.
